Kenny Parker Show 2001 (feat. KRS-One)

You are now tuned in to the ultimate sounds of Dr. Dre

You know what time it is!

Xzibit steps up to the mic

Layin' down the hardcore, real, raw, underground

My name is KRS-One, and it's real! (Yeah)

(Yeah, huh, uh-huh)

Well, it's me, down with D-R-E

X to the Z rocks any party

Rocks the beats, and the breaks

Rocks the cocks off the whores in the place

'Cause suckers shake, while I'm creatin'

They get together and they start to hatin'

How can we take him out one time

'Cause he brought back the West with the freshest rhymes

I might go first, and he'll go second

I'll wreck 'em, deck 'em, set it, just checkin' your mic

Droppin' hot shit I like

So throw up your hands, bitch, run your ice

'Cause I'll go third, and he'll go fourth

By the fifth, eat shit, you'll step off

Six is your beatdown, your title is seven

Takin' out your four-man crew makes 11

By the 12th, I go for self

Rockin' L.A. like no one else

You can check any rapper from the underground scene

But few have dropped hot shit and seen green

Some have dope 12 inches, count 'em

But not many niggas have slammin' albums

X to the Z rocks consistently

I'm "Criminal Minded" so don't fuck with me

Why? Well, that's my secret, baby

I don't take shit, so fuck you, pay me

So you can call me a public servant

Not a king but a teacher, I believe I've earned it

So I just walk, or ride my bike

And bust on the "Up In Smoke" stage tonight

Give me a chance and I'll rock the house

But let a motherfucker try to take me out

'Cause male or female, I will strangle

If it's a label, they have to untangle

Adidas, chains, jerseys, braids

Bandanas hangin' off the end of my gauge

Step right up if that's what you like

But watch your bitch, I catch hoes like a dyke

In the night at a height right for flight

Way out of sight, you bite, I recite

My chain shine bright, plus my kicks stay white

As your faggot CEO say, "Well, alright!"

I am your mentor

History is mine, it's time you surrender, motherfuckers

And just back up quickly

Your style is sickly, but you persist to get me

Or outwit me with the style that I created

Years ago when I was sellin' powder to the hoes

Oh, all of a sudden, you don't know

Or can't remember, can't recall can't bring to mind

That rhyme that place do not chase

I run a marathon, a race of rhymes in your face

In case you hate, I won't write no tough rap

Fuck with me, get your whole family kidnapped

Yo Xzibit! Show these motherfuckers, man

I don't think they understand this shit

Break this shit over they backs

I don't dress up to rap or keep a hairdo

I only grab a .9 to bust holes in your crew

I deny your existence as artists

You puttin' out a record expectin' to chart, but it's weak

But when you speak through the microphone

You fail to realize, nope, you're not alone on the Earth

The light comes forth 'cause Mr. X

Intelligence, smoke and guns manifest in the flesh

I snatch the mic and get hype

Behave, before you make the news front page

Headed for the grave and the wake

So save your microscopic miniature small talk and walk

And put a little pep in your step

X to the Z will destroy any motherfuckin' reputation

In the nation, in creation

All you assholes in any occupation

Like rappers with nothin' to say

I crush 'em like chronic and then smoke 'em with Dre

'Cause no matter how fatter the wallet, I'd rather

Gather together and splatter

Whatever egotistic bullshit, the game is over

When you push the record but don't push the culture

Breakin', emceein', graffiti art, deejayin', beatboxin'

Yo Xzibit, keep rockin'!

Just throw your hands in the sky

Still believe real niggas never die

And if you in this life just gettin' by

Somebody say, "I'm high!"

(I'm high!) "I'm high!"

(I'm high!) Yeah, and you don't stop

Yeah

Woop woop, woop, woop woop!

You know what time it is

Pull over, all wack emcees, ah

Yo, yo, you are tuned in to the ultimate

Underground rawness straight off the street

Xzibit, turn it up